Closure
by shadowchild25
Summary: A short story of Susan after the Last Battle.
1. Chapter 1

**Spoiler Alert- if you haven't read the Last Battle, this will both give something away and be very confusing**

**AN: I've updated this chapter to fit better with her canon age.**

The boys of Pendleton Academy had always been quite fond of teasing the girls of St. Mary's, across the way. Sometimes the teasing had grown into all-out antagonism. Some of the antagonism had lasted well past graduation, especially when there was a particular grudge against one party by another. For the group of young men that spent their free time hanging around the Pendleton Academy archery field, their particular grudge was with a girl who had gone away to America and come back with airs. Far too many of the boys of that group had been snubbed by this girl, and quite a few of their sisters had felt slighted by her as well. Even after she'd withdrawn from the social circuits a year back, the grudge against her still stood. Rather than discouraging them when she'd stopped responding to their jibes, it had incensed them. It didn't matter that she'd also stopped smiling or laughing, stopped being part of the popular crowd when she stopped trying to make herself pretty. Indeed, she only had one friend left to her these days, one left over from the time before her rise to popularity. Mary-Anna Poppins, so unfortunately named, was her staunch companion. And it was on one cloudy afternoon while the two friends were walking home from their day at the girl's school, where they'd been assisting a few of their old teachers, that things between the two young women and the group of young men, practicing their archery, finally crashed together.

"Look at those two losers, walking home alone," A boy called out. "Hey Dylan, this would be a good time to show them a thing or two, eh?"

The young man called Dylan looked over, a malicious smile growing on his face. "Yeah, I 'spect it is. Hey Poppins, Pevensie," he called. When he noticed the instantaneous stiffening of their backs, his grin grew wider. In a moments irrational thinking, he swung his bow in their direction, aimed right in front of them, and let the arrow fly.

He was rewarded by their screams, and the look Susan sent him as she realized what had happened. She walked over to the arrow, which had landed in a tree behind them, and yanked it out. Mary tried to hold her back, but she was unstoppable. She hopped over the fence that separated the archery field from the road with far less dignity than the girls of St. Mary's were known for, and more athleticism than any of the boys were expecting. There were about ten of them, but as the girl approached they began to shrink back a bit, avoiding the fire that spat from her eyes.

"You could have killed us," she said, her voice dangerously low.

But Dylan seemed immune to it, standing tall and proud against her. "I'm the best archer in town. I was aiming for the tree, I hit it. You were never in any danger, unless I had chosen you to be."

"You aren't the best, not by a long shot," she spat, her tone derisive, her eyes mocking. And Dylan's renowned temper flared.

"Oh? Who's better?"

"Me," her eyes fluttered, as if in disbelief, as though she hadn't expected herself to say such a thing, as if she was doubtful. She was, in fact. The boys laughed, perching on the closest side of the fence that served as the visible perimeter of the archery field. Seven targets were set up, and a small, paper covered wooden ring danced in the light breeze, suspended from a tree branch. It had been Dylan's goal to successfully shoot it for ages. She looked at it, and he did as well, knowing that she knew he'd never hit it.

"Go ahead and try then," he sneered, handing her his bow, which seemed almost too heavy for her. She certainly doesn't have the muscle for it, he thought. Eight arrows were positioned nearby, and she held a ninth in her hand, the one he'd shot at them.

She lifted her chin in defiance. "I believe I will," was her retort, right before she pulled back the bow.

Afterwards the boys would say that she transformed. Indeed, there was something of a warrior princess in her stance, in her face. There almost seemed to be the shadow of a crown resting on her brow. She let the arrow fly, and had another on the string and in the air before the first could land dead center on the first target. In minutes all seven targets had arrows through their centers, some at an angle, because of where she stood, but even at an angle everyone could see that the point of the arrow went through the exact center. She gave them half a moment to think about what they'd seen, before aiming for the wooden ring, now dancing in a strong breeze. Dylan's eyes watched hungrily, his interest no longer in seeing her fail, but in seeing a master at work.

The arrow flew, puncturing the paper and flying through. But everyone saw the perfection of the puncture, and there was awe on every face as they turned back to look at her.

The look on her face, though, was not one of triumph.

"Lucy," she whispered, tears stinging her eyes. "Peter, Edmund. Mum. Dad." She raised her voice to a yell. "Why'd you leave me?" She pulled an apple out of a wide-eyed observers hand, threw it as far as she could and let loose the ninth arrow.

"Aslan," she murmured, as the apple landed in two distinct thumps on the solid earth, split by her ninth arrow. "Why'd you leave me?" And with them looking on in awe, she turned and ran down the lane, blinded by her own tears.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: This is my first fanfiction, which would explain why I didn't say anything in the first chapter (Thank you to those who read that, and even more so to those who reviewed). I had already written this story, and finished it, without publishing it. Then my hard drive crashed, and I lost everything of this story but the first chapter as well as the majority of my own novel I've been working on for the past year. So bear with this chapter- it's the part I remember the least from my original copy. The next and last chapter should be easier for me to remember. I'm sorry it's taken so long to update as well- it was my first week of a new semester at college. Between getting back to school and starting classes, I hadn't gotten the chance to rewrite until last night and today.**

**It would probably be prudent to mention that Narnia does not belong to me. That said- here's chapter 2.**

She knew that it wasn't a church she was seeking, but because that was the last place she saw them- in a house of God, all five of them, in five wooden caskets, that was where she headed. But not to that church- the one she had last seen them in, nor to the one Mary-Anna had brought her once. No, she passed six churches on her long run before she found the one she wanted, although she hadn't know she wanted it.

It was nestled between a bank and a museum, and it wasn't obvious in and of itself, but rather because the entrances to both the bank and the museum were flanked by lion statues. Susan knew, with the absolute surety of one who has been touched by an immortal diety, that this was where she was meant to be, this was where she'd find the answers she was seeking.

Susan stopped dead in the vestibule of the church, nearly colliding with the back of an old woman with a cane. She recognized the church as a Catholic one, and though she wasn't Catholic, she watched the older woman carefully and mimicked her actions, until she was kneeling in a pew before the alter, looking up at the man hanging from the cross. She remembered with a sudden vividness the feel of Narnian air with the scent of fire, cruel and vicious fires from torches, the foul smell of the beasts that had stood behind and beside the White Witch, Jadis, as she raised the bloody knife above the shorn and tied Lion. And clarity burst upon her, followed closely by the feel of the Lion's breath upon her.

"You've been here all along!" she murmured. And she spun to face him.

He smiled at her. "We meet again, young queen."

"Older and wiser now than I was when last we met," Susan quipped, her delight at seeing Aslan once more diminished quickly by the memory of what had actually passed since they'd last met. "And younger and less wise than I have been in times past."

Aslan smiled gently. "You will learn wisdom again, and you have time to grow up here."

"You said that to Peter, when you told us we wouldn't be coming back. I remember- you told him that. But he didn't grow up, he died. So you lied."

A part of her was hoping he'd do something drastic, like pick her up and shake her. Not because she doubted, like Trumpkin had once a long time ago, but because it would make him completely real. Well, maybe because she still had doubts.

Aslan seemed to understand that, because he walked up to her and put his head on her shoulder, so that she could wrap her arms around his neck, like she used to do. "Peter did his growing up in the time between when we last talked and the accident. Be at peace with his fate, child. You know that that is his story, when you should be more concerned with yours." At the word _yours_, Susan felt a chill go up and down her spine. Aslan's voice had turned stern.

"I was afraid and angry that I couldn't go back. It was easier, to pretend it had never happened. And then, once I was pretending that, it began to feel as though it didn't exist. As though I'd never been there, as though I'd never been Queen of- of N-Narnia." The feeling that had overcome her when she was on the archery field came over her again when she said the name of her true country, "Oh Aslan, how could I have forgotten!" she groaned, feeling the strength come over her. "I submit myself to your mercies," she murmured, dropping to her knees in front of the Lion. "I feel ashamed, knowing how easily I turned from you, and the memory of Narnia!"

Aslan shook his great head at her. "It will never be easy for you to remember Narnia. It was only ever easy for the others because they had each other to help them remember. Your adventures there were harder for you because you did belong in Narnia, but you also belonged in England, in your world. If you want it to be easier, remember me, remember Narnia- and pass it on."

"People will think I'm crazy!" Susan gasped in dismay. The Lion smiled down on her.

"Then tell stories to your children. And tell that young man over there why he isn't crazy." Susan turned to look to the door, where Dylan had been standing for the last five minutes, completely frozen with his mouth wide open in shock. "You've found me here now. You know now. I know what you want in your heart, but you can't go back to Narnia now. It no longer exists. Nor can you join your siblings. You have a life. Don't turn your back on Narnia again, or you will never come back to me. But once a Queen of Narnia, always a Queen, even though you let yourself stray this past time. So rise, Queen Susan, and go on to live!" Aslan's face smiled upon Susan as he faded away.

"What the Hell was that?" Dylan swore, striding into the church. The woman who had been there before was gone, so Dylan wasn't following anyone's actions as he went through the appropriate motions, and belatedly crossed himself for swearing. When he got to Susan's side, he was pale but anxious. "Pevensie, there was a Lion talking to you."

"Not a lion, The Lion," Susan responed. "And it's Susan, Dylan. Susan Pevensie. You may as well know that, because you won't believe the story I'm about to tell you. You'll want to know the proper name of the girl you're about to send to the mad house."

"There was a lion in this church. Since I saw it, I'm about as mad as you are. So are you going to tell me this story or not?"

Susan's eyes, as well as her thoughts, were on the wooden cross, and the man whose effigy looked down upon her, with the eyes of the Lion who loved her.

"I was there when the Son was sacrificed," she murmured. "Bound to a table, with his mane cut, and then she took her knife and- she killed him. But Lucy and I couldn't look. And then we stayed with him, and when we were about to leave, he came back. He rose again." She turned to Dylan. "And after he came back, he took us to our brothers and we helped them win the fight against the Witch and bring Edmund back to life, and we became Kings and Queens! Oh, the stories go on and on, and you wouldn't believe half of them if I told you. You probably think I'm crazy as it is- the sacrifice of the Son and all."

Dylan just looked on at her. He could smell strange smells in the air, smells of summers and summer air that wasn't English air. And the musky smell of the Lion still hung around Susan, with a smell of flowers much like a scent that would have accompanied Susan's richest gowns, which had been washed and treated with scented water, back when she was a Queen. Susan herself was changed, as she looked back at him. Her eyes glowed with happiness, despite her words. Her stories, and the Lion, had brought her back to life in a way that made her more beautiful than any amount of make-up could.

"I think I should like to hear the rest of these stories," Dylan replied, "from the beginning."

Susan smiled, and began- "It all started with the war, when we were sent from London to the Professor's house- that's where Lucy found the Wardrobe…"


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: I had always planned for Dylan's grandparents to be who they are, but this is one of the good things that comes from losing everything on your hard drive- being forced to rewrite, which isn't my usual thing. So Dirk is an entirely new character to this story- enjoy! Also, Susan's age in the first chapter is wrong- so the Susan in this chapter is closer to 22-23 than the 16-17 that my original first chapter implies. That mistake in the first chapter will be changed when I get the chance, without changing the general gist of the chapter.**

Dirk, Dylan's father, didn't really know what to make of her son's new friend. There was something about her that put him on edge. Not that there ever seemed to be anything wrong with her. No, it had more to do with how much she reminded him of his own mother.

And it wasn't in looks, he mused, sipping from his water glass at the dinner table, where his son had brought the beautiful Susan Pevensie. His mother had been fair-haired, this young woman had dark hair. His mother, though pretty, had never been the beauty this girl was. But there was a aura around both of them, a grace to their beings, a pride in the way they held themselves, that suggested that they were flip sides of the same coin.

Dirk wasn't quite sure whether he liked that or not. He hadn't talked to his mother in years. His children, even the eldest, Dylan, had barely even met her as a result of the hard feelings that had grown between Dirk and his mother after the death of his step-father. And then his mother had passed on a year back, and there was no need to think on her anymore.

There was no doubt that Dylan was well and truly in love though. He and this girl had only really known each other for about two weeks, and already Dylan was bringing her to meet the family. She made Dylan's younger siblings laugh with her views on what animals would say, if they could talk (a topic brought up by one brother teasing his younger sister).

"What about a giraffe?" James asked at one point, and Susan's expression had turned quite thoughtful.

"You know, I don't believe I've ever heard a giraffe speak," she laughed at last, and Dirk raised an eyebrow to hear it. She couldn't possibly have heard an elephant speak either, and only moments before she had been describing their trumpeting voice and their tendency to sound a tad thick, though they were a lot faster of thought than a black bear was. "But I imagine they speak in a soft but high pitched voice, which has a hard time reaching the ground," she said in a soft but high pitched voice.

The children had all laughed, and Dylan had smiled on his friend, but Dirk felt a chill as he realized- these tales of talking animals were quite similar to ones his mother had told him and his half-siblings when he was young. He stood up quickly, startling everyone into silence, and turned from the room without saying a word.

Dylan kept bringing the girl around, introducing her to others as his girlfriend not long after that first dinner. Before a year had gone, he was asking her aunt and uncle for her hand. Dirk quietly watched everything unfold from the wings. The girl was still lovely, and love had only made her more lovely still. But there was a sadness in her too, even as she helped the youth of the neighborhood set the broken wings of fallen wild birds or assisted the local animal doctor in sewing up injured pets. Even as she walked with his son, there was that sadness hanging about her. He knew she had lost her family, and was living with her aunt and uncle, who had lost their son in the same train crash that had killed her siblings and parents. The same crash that had taken his own mother.

Susan knew of his mother, he'd found. She was rather secretive on how and why, but she mentioned staying once in the home of his mother's friend, another victim of that crash. His mother's friend, Digory Kirke, the one who had left part of what fortune he had left after the war to Dylan Plummer, son of Dirk Plummer, Polly Plummer's illegitimate son.

Dirk Plummer had been a witness to his mother and step-father's wedding, at three years old when his mother was twenty-nine, several years after his own father had died in the war. They had married more for convenience than for love, as his step-father was a widower with two young daughters, about to go off to war himself, and his mother would have been a widow if she had married the man who'd fathered her child. No one spoke his name, and Dirk had been given his grandfather's name, but Dirk remembered a day not long after the first war, when he was very young, when his mother had come home from meeting a friend. She had held Dirk, and had cried into his soft blonde hair, and yet he knew she was happy as well as sad. He never figured out why, nor did he suspect anything until after his step-father's death, when Polly began to visit a friend she'd never visited during her husband's lifetime.

Two days before his son's marriage to Susan Pevensie, Dirk Plummer stood outside his front door, dragging on a cigarette, thinking on something his son had said about his future bride, among other things. The young groom had said something about Susan being courted by princes and kings, and how unworthy he was of her. As far as Dirk knew, Susan had only ever left the country once, and that was to go to America. Certainly, in all her travels, she had never met royalty. He figured the girl had lied, told a tall tale, while she went on about talking animals.

His thoughts were also on the envelope in his pocket, the one his mother had left for his eldest son, for his wedding. He was trying to figure out whether he should give it to Dylan. He was afraid of what it would say- what locked doors it would open in his heart.

Susan came up the lane just then. "Hello, Mr. Plummer, your wife just called to say that Dylan was freaking out a bit," she called out, her voice alive with mischief and joy. "I was hoping to talk to him. Tomorrow is going to be a bit crazy, I guess, and the day after than even more so."

Dirk looked toward his future daughter-in-law. He wanted to snap at her, rebuke her for telling tall tales, but tonight she had shed the perpetual lost look. Tonight she looked like a woman who'd been courted by princes and kings. "It will at that," was what he said, instead. Then, he took out the letter and handed it to Susan. "Will you open this for me?" he asked, feeling wretched. Susan looked at the name on the letter, then back at him, a question in her eyes. "I know it's addressed to him. But I need to know what it says- I burned the one meant for me without reading it. I don't think she will mind if you see it, as she told me it was for Dylan and his future bride."

"From Lady Polly?" Susan guessed, sitting down on the front stoop, heedless of her pretty dress. She began to open the letter, handling it as if it were a precious scroll. And then she read it. "Oh, Mr. Plummer," she murmured, "I feel as though I've finally found the missing puzzle piece. The only time I ever saw your mother, I thought it so sad, that she had shared such adventures with the Professor, and yet they hadn't found in each other the kind of love I've found in your son. But Mr. Plummer, sir, it's the most tragic love story!" Susan looked up at her future father-in-law. "But you guessed that already, didn't you?" she asked softly. He nodded. "They were in love, and then he had to go away to war, and they were engaged, but he was taken prisoner, and everyone thought he was dead, so she was already married when he returned. Oh, sir, I know this doesn't help much, but I have to tell you, she promises that was never unfaithful, and she loved your step-father. This isn't written to Dylan so much as it is written to you. She asks him and, well, me, as his unknown future bride, to pass that along. She knew you wouldn't read the one she left you. She only wants Dylan to know the name that he would have had, if things hadn't gone so wrong."

She looked over at him, reaching out a hand to comfort him, but looking unsure of whether he'd mind. "Mr. Plummer, she just wanted you and your family to know who you were. She's offering help. I know this must be hard for you, finding out that your father was alive your entire life, but everything happens for a reason, I promise. Aslan knew what he was doing-" her voice died off, and she looked sheepish.

He laughed dryly. "She used to say that too, every so often, she'd slip and say Aslan, when she meant to say God. Are you sure you only met her once?"

"It's a long story, sir, but yes, I'm sure I've only met her once. It's just that we had similar experiences, I suppose. It goes along with my respect for her that leads me to call her Lady Polly. She met my siblings several more times than she met me, and they used to call her Aunt Polly."

His heart hurt, knowing that his mother had spent more time with those children than she had with her own grandchildren. That Susan had met his father, even though he never had. "She wanted you to know she loved you, too. And she knew you loved her, even though you turned away. She hopes you'll forgive her."

He could only nod. "So, my father-" he murmured. "He was a nice man?"

Susan smiled. "He was the kindest man I ever met. Digory Kirke was like a grandfather to me, and the summer my siblings and I spent with him was one of the best of my - life," she finished, and there seemed to be some laughter that wanted to escape her for some reason. She caught his questioning glance. "It felt like it lasted forever, and yet it was over all too fast," she clarified, smiling at him.

He smiled back. "Thank you for your kindness, my dear," he whispered. She stooped to give him a peck on the cheek, then looked up at the door. "He's upstairs, in his room, going on about kings and princes," Dirk replied to her unasked question. With a silent nod, she proceeded on to the room of her future husband, holding tight to the letter.

Dirk watched the goings-on of his family the next day, so his son's disappearance for a long time the next day was not missed. What was surprising was what transpired not long after Dylan returned.

"I've changed my name to Dylan Kirke," he announced, shocking everyone but Susan, who looked only mildly surprised. "I've taken my grandfather's name, as is my right. Tomorrow, Susan Pevensie will take that name as well," he announced, before catching Susan up in a hug and whispering in her ear, "and no one can deny my right, as the grandson of Lord Digory, one of the first friends of Narnia, to marry Queen Susan the Gentle."

Susan laughed joyously. "I love you, Dylan Kirke, for you, not for your ancestors. But this brings it all around full circle, with the grandson of the first Lord, and the last living Queen that we know of."

Dirk could never forget the memory of day that followed. Dylan and Susan were deliriously happy, and Susan looked radiant in a wedding dress she had made herself, in the Narnian style. Some of the more jealous girls there mocked the simple frock, and some of the old biddies thought she looked rather like some heathen. But no one could deny in their own mind, though they denied all they would aloud, that she looked gorgeous. Susan's face was alight with happiness, although it was obvious that there was sadness in fact that her family was not there to witness the joyous occasion, and both Harold Scrubb and Susan seemed to be thinking of their lost loved ones as her uncle walked her down the aisle, in place of her father. Some of the things she said in her vows were strange, but most were no stranger than the vows of her husband, and neither seemed to care that others were puzzled by the mention of lions. Only Dylan's younger siblings, who had listened to Susan's stories with glee, truly knew what was being said.

Then the year passed, and Susan and Dylan began to have children of their own. Dirk kept the happy memory of that wedding in his heart throughout all bad times, and when his wife died, he moved in with Dylan and Susan and knew the great happiness and closeness of that family. Susan saw in her father-in-law a similar man as the Professor had been, though a little more affectionate with the children. She continued to tell stories of Narnia to her children, including the tales of the Lady Polly and Lord Digory, and those two adventures of her brother, sister, and cousin that she hadn't been involved in, nor had believed in at the time, as best as she could piece together from the odd bits that she had heard, so that the Voyage of the Dawn Treader and the tale of the Silver Chair were as well loved by her children as those of the Magician's Nephew, and the Horse and his Boy, and the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, and Prince Caspian, and all the tales in between.

Then came the time when Dirk himself grew old and sick, and the children were long since grown. Then, every so often, Dirk would ask Susan to talk with him, to tell him a few tales of Narnia. On his deathbed, Susan and Dirk knelt on either side of him, as he wheezed out his most important question.

"It was all real, wasn't it?" he asked of Susan, who smiled gently. "The tales of Narnia?" She nodded, tears beginning to fall down her cheeks, swiftly. "Ah, that's good then," the man replied, "my mother and father were important people, and they meant a lot to each other, I s'pose. And you," his lips curved upward in a weak smile, "why, I've been living in the house of a Queen. My son married- the Queen." His smile stayed on his face, even as his eyes closed and he breathed his last.

The last Queen of Narnia wept gently by his side, as she had for the Lion many lifetimes ago.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Second to Last Chapter! The end of Susan's story- you'll see the children briefly in the "epilouge" that will follow.**

Many years later, Susan found herself at another deathbed. Dylan looked up at his wife of many years, and sighed happily. "I'll be waiting," he promised.

"There's someone waiting Outside, down by the wood beyond the waterfall," Tumnus the faun mentioned offhand one day, as he was taking a walk with Lucy, as they had done so long ago. Lucy, who had been watching a squirrel pick out some nuts from a store of them, felt her body lift at these words.

"Oh, Tumnus, do you think it could be-?" she gasped, before turning and running to her lookout point. She didn't give the poor faun a chance to tell her what he'd meant to- that it wasn't the Queen Susan.

So it was that Edmund found his sister, sitting atop a tree, looking down. "It was a man, and he hasn't come up yet," Edmund said as he climbed the tree to sit with his sister.

"I know," she said simply, "I saw him."

"So who do you think he is?" Edmund wondered, looking out towards the nearly empty world beyond the garden.

"I'm not sure yet," Lucy replied, "but I'm sure we'll one day find out."

Edmund grinned. "You sound more patient than I know you to be."

She smiled back, "that's because I'm not patient at all. I only said that we'd find out one day, not that I'm particularly looking forward to the wait."

Both laughed and descended from the tree.

Edward and Stacy Kirke dropped down from a tree in England in a similar manner, though with considerably less grace, when their mother called them into the house to pay their last respects to their grandmother. They had been hoping to see their cousins' car round the bend, but it hadn't quite arrived yet. The siblings were eager to see Luke and Petra (who weren't brother and sister, but lived on the same street and usually traveled together to family get-togethers), because they were having a hard time getting along with their other cousin Dirk, and the twins Polly and Jill weren't being very social. They had other cousins, but they were all babies, so they couldn't do anything fun.

At one point, the seven cousins had been quite close, back when they used to pretend they were kings and queens of Narnia, the world their grandmother had made up for them. But then they had to go to school, and they weren't able to stay close friends, going to different schools and getting involved in different activities. Most of their parents had discouraged the telling of Narnian tales, once Grandmother began praying to Aslan during church. Her children all knew that her mind was going, and hearing their children speak of Narnia was a reminder that their mother's mind was lost in a world that wasn't theirs. Only the youngest, Lucy, still encouraged her daughter Petra to let her mind wander into Narnia, though Petra was long past the age when imaginary friends and worlds ought to be allowed.

But the seven cousins were gathered today to say farewell to the woman formerly known as Susan Pevensie, and Queen Susan the Gentle. She had asked for them in particular, asked to speak with them alone. Most hoped that there was one last secret of the world they still half-believed in that she was going to impart to them today, on the last day of her life.

But Susan Pevensie, hanging onto the last shred of sanity she had, had other thoughts.

She was holding her gift to them in her hands as the five of them walked in, and when the other two arrived moments later, she still held tight to her gift.

"It was always the truth," she said simply. "And now I give you the keys to finding your own world." She hesitated, looking at her grandchildren, with various expressions of disbelief and hope on their faces. She knew what she was doing had the potential to be dangerous, but something told her that more than that, it was a chance to give Aslan, or Jesus, or whoever he would be in the world that they found, the chance to bring her family into his heart.

"I love you all," she admitted as she handed the youngest, Petra, who looked so much like Lucy, the first Lucy, (oh Lucy, I'm coming!) the yellow rings, and stubborn and angry Dirk (my husband, my love, who is waiting, as he promised, oh I _know_ it) the green ones. "Remember the story of Lord Digory and Lady Polly? These are the rings, the magician's rings, that were among my brothers' possessions when they died, and so came to me. I'm ready to be a wife and sister again, children, but I needed to know that you had something to help you remember the stories- to help you believe. Will you do that for me? Don't tell your parents, don't share it with anyone else, not now. He might tell you to bring others, He might bring others without the rings, or you may never meet Him. Any number of risks come with taking this journey, but I believe in your abilities, and your love for each other, and I know that Aslan, whatever his choice of name or face, watches over you now, as he will in the worlds to come. So go explore the worlds your great-great grandparents gave you the chance to explore. And your grandmother? I'm going to see the Kings and Queens of old, the friends of Narnia, for whom you all are named. I know I am," Susan whispered, turning her eyes to the ceiling, "for I can see her now. Send in your parents, you don't need to be here, and they want to be. Now's your chance, little ones."

So it was that she had her children with her as she died. And seconds after she closed her eyes, she felt the breeze, the sweet Narnian breeze. And less than a second later, the feel of her Dylan's lips against hers. Susan opened her eyes to him, the same boy she'd met that first day, ages ago. "You did wait for me," she beamed at him, eyes only for him.

"And you were telling the truth, about Narnia," he whispered back, "and everything you told me is here."

"That's impossible," she breathed, taking a look around her. "This is Narnia, yes, but it's everything and more. And Aslan said I could never come back. He told me."

Her one true love just smiled. "Well, you and I are here. And I know where your sister is. Are you ready to see her?"

His own love smiled back up at him. "More than ready, Dylan. Show me."

"Lucy!" Edmund called, having just heard the news, "Lucy, there are two people coming towards the garden. Peter is going to open the gate right now, and Aslan is coming to greet them. Lucy, we think it's Susan!"

Edmund waited for his sister, bouncing impatiently on the balls of his feet a little as he held in his eagerness to see one sister and balanced it with the needs of the other sister. Lucy was surrounded by nearly everyone she cared about, it was true, but she also was lacking the person she shared the strongest bond with. When Lucy reached him, Edmund held out his hand, and both of them ran to meet Peter together. By this point, a crowd had gathered, but they fell respectfully back, allowing the three siblings the right to view the newcomers first.

As Peter, Edmund and Lucy stood at the threshold of the garden, the couple crested the ridge, and all four siblings saw each other again. With a shout of glee Lucy raced forward to meet her sister, the brothers at her heels, and Susan, tears streaming down her face, also lunged forward, letting her hand slip from Dylan's. The sisters met halfway, Lucy launching herself into Susan's arms, and the two of them collapsing to the ground in equal parts laughter and tears. Edmund reached them next, and easily pulled both up from the ground to hold together, his own tears falling onto their golden and auburn heads. Susan, the elder, couldn't stop planting kisses all over her younger siblings' faces, holding them to her like the mother she had been, both to her children in England and to them during their adventures in Narnia.

Then Lucy and Edmund both stepped back, to let their reclaimed sister see her brother again. The High King moved towards his sister, who knelt with a bow to her leader. "No, Susan, not now," Peter murmured, lifting her to her feet before strongly embracing her. Susan sobbed happily into his shoulder as she wrapped her arms around him again. Caught up in his own exultation, Peter lifted his sister and whirled her around, as she laughed and cried. Placing her back on her own two feet, he turned his gaze to Dylan, who had followed his wife at a more decorous pace.

Dylan returned the look, then knelt into a bow of his own. "High King, I deliver your sister back to you, safe and relatively unharmed, but for her newly healed broken heart, from your loss."

"I'm sure you had more to do with healing her heart than this joyous encounter now," Peter murmured, putting a hand on Dylan's shoulder, "and for that you are more than welcome in this land, as you already must have been by Aslan, else you would not be here."

"Indeed," the Lion said, appearing beside them, startling only Dylan. Susan fell to him, embracing him, and he pressed a paw to her shoulder, pulling her closer. "Welcome Home, children. Welcome Home," he murmured to her, before embracing Dylan in a similar manner.

And then, the Kings and Queens of old reunited, they walked back to the garden, where Susan introduced Dylan to the Lady Polly and the Lord Digory and all her other old friends, and there was much joy and laughter, and Susan's long-broken heart was finally healed.

Later on, standing alone with Aslan and looking towards England, where her mother and father waved happily at her, standing next to Dirk Plummer and his wife, Susan asked, "did I do the right thing, giving the children the rings? Will they be alright?"

Aslan turned to his daughter, returned to him at last. "That is their story, dear heart. But they will be watched over, yes, and it was exactly what I asked of you- to spread the word to the hearts of many others."

Susan looked back out, across at the various worlds. "I wonder," she whispered, pondering for a moment. "I wonder," she breathed again, before smiling at the Lion and turning back to where her brothers, sister, and one true love awaited her.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed. I'm so glad to have readers, I've been writing my novel with renewed energy. I spent two glorious hours in the lovely Florida sunshine writing and listening to music today, and I plan on doing the same tomorrow, should the amazing weather hold.**

**The Epilogue! End of one story, or beginning of another?**

Petra turned to her cousins. "Hold hands," she instructed them calmly.

"Wait just a minute, shouldn't we think about this?" Luke said, looking fearfully at the rings held in Petra's hands. Dirk walked drunkenly over to Polly, who was wearing a clasp bracelet, and threaded one green ring onto it. The other he tucked into his pocket for safekeeping. Then he gestured for the others' hands and turned back to Petra.

"Please," Dirk whispered to his cousins, "give me a reason to continue believing in Good, in Magic- let me go alone, or come with me."

All the others wondered what this was, why Dirk was saying these things, but they saw the longing in his eyes, the desperation, and slowly, they joined hands together, and everyone looked towards Petra, whose smile couldn't be wider. She almost had the ring on her finger before she suddenly stopped and ran over to Polly to attach a yellow ring ("so one of us can go back and forth, if we get separated somehow," she chirped happily) to the bracelet. With everyone thankful that she'd remembered that, and frozen, fearing what might actually happen when they got where they were going, she inserted herself into the middle of the group, where Edward and Stacy gripped her elbows so her hands would be free.

"Hold tightly now!" she ordered, as she slipped the yellow ring onto her finger. And began their adventure.

The Wood between the Worlds was just as the stories had described it, down to the pools that would emerge into other worlds. The seven wandered between them, hoping for some feeling that would convince them that that particular world was Narnia. But none of them felt it- the pull they'd been hoping for.

"Could it be that Narnia is no more?" Dirk asked softly, sinking down to his knees in the green grass.

"Has to be, or else we're just not allowed there," Jill replied.

"We can't be denied entrance, we haven't done anything wrong," Dirk snapped back, and Jill was about to growl a response when Edward stopped them both with a sharp intake of breath. Six pairs of eyes turned to him, where he stood above a pool. His eyes were alight with wonder.

"It's not Narnia," he murmured. "But we need to go to this world," his eyes implored them to believe him. "Please, we have to go to this world."

The cousins all made their way over to the pool. As they stood, gazing into it, they felt it too.

"This is the one then?" Stacy asked, a bit breathless, her eyebrows drawn together worriedly.

"This is the one," Edward and Luke replied together, exchanging startled glances, then grins.

Dirk rose and stepped into the middle position. "Then let's not waste another minute," he breathed, his face burning with an expression none of the children had ever seen before, but one that Susan would have known in an instant, for the amount of times she'd seen in on the High King Peter's face during his reign. It was the face of a King on the verge of being reconnected with his country, a King returned to his Kingdom. Hooking his arms through the twins', he waited until all had joined hands once again before eagerly thrusting his finger through the ring.

The world they came into had a deep blue sky and tall, dark green grass. They were in a lane between two halves of a great forest, a lane wide enough for them to see past the forest to the mountains beyond. They stood on a road that clearly led to one of the mountains- a smoking mountain.

A shadow passed directly overhead, covering all of them and much of the area surrounding where they stood. They instinctively ducked, peeking above them. They saw the scaly underside of the dragon's stomach, and fear raced into their hearts. But they stayed frozen as the dragon landed in front of them, as large as an elephant, with huge leathery wings. Before their eyes the dragon began to shrink, until only a man, with emerald eyes to match his dark green dragon wings, stood before them. He looked at each of them in turn, then smiled. None of the children knew what to do, or what to say.

"You have come," the dragon-angel-man stated, his voice clear as a bell with an odd double echo in their heads, "as the Haeve predicted. Come, Children of the Last Queen, there isn't much time left! We must save our last queen from the grasp of the goblins before all is lost for Dragonkind!"

**Thank you for sticking through this until the end. I would love some thoughts on this epilogue, on whether you think I should continue with the story of the Kirke grandchildren or not? Dirk is one of Susan's daughter's children, by the way, named after his great-grandfather, from chapter 3, but because his father isn't a Kirke, he isn't saddled with the unfortunate name of Dirk Kirke. Just FYI. Also, would anyone would be interested in having a story (about this length) about the Digory Kirke and Polly Plummer alluded to in the third chapter?**


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